You’re much more than that.
“They needed to know they weren’t allowed to hurt you. I wouldn’t let them do that.”
“So you’re not….”
Embarrassed, she leaves unsaid.
In answer, I sweep her into my arms. She makes that endearing cute noise as I pull her in for a kiss. I try to hold back the primal urgency, but there’s too much of it bursting through me. People are driving past. They might look this way.
Yet I snarl as I kiss her, our mouths opening. I push my body against hers, my hand coming to the small of her back, pressing at the same time, so there’s no space between us. When my senses snap into place, I’m about to drive with my hips, letting her feel my rock-hard dick.
We’re in public. We can’t.
Moving away, I smirk, struggling not to let it shake.
“I think that proves I could never be embarrassed by you, Fiona,” I growl.
“I know. I just…It’s all too perfect to be real. I think I was looking for a way to mess it up.”
“Are you okay?” I touch her shoulder. “That’s all that matters to me.”
She moans, her gaze flitting to my hand. I can read that sound, read the look.
“Are you… now? I thought those men…..”
I can’t finish the sentence. I can hardly finish the thought without wanting to go feral for two reasons.
If I mention those men, I’ll want to charge after them and do some serious damage.
If I mention my woman being horny or excited, I might jolt into full feral mode again. But this time. I might not be able to stop myself.
“They didn’t touch me,” she whispers, stepping close, washing me with her perfume and her affection and her…just her, everything she is, is going to be.
Forever, with me.
“You saved me,” she says softly.
“I had to,” I growl. “I couldn’t let anybody hurt you.”
I lean down, holding my lips close to hers. I can feel her breath, can taste her, and I know she can do the same. It seems impossible that we first kissed only less than an hour ago. I feel like my mystery girl’s lips were made for me.
“I’m taking you someplace,” I say. “Screw dinner. We’ll order room service. Say yes, Fiona. Say you want it as badly as I do.”
It’s not a gentlemanly thing to ask, but the never-ending hunger has taken charge now. She whimpers, that soft noise that could be nerves or excitement, and then she starts to nod. Slow at first, then she speeds up as though warming more and more to the idea.
“Yes, I think…let’s do it, Felix. Let’s go. Right now.”
I take her hand, and we turn away. I know I should take it slower. She’s younger. She was just almost assaulted.
But maybe we’re both just animals, too starving for each other’s bodies, needing to satiate the desire before we can focus on anything else.
Collecting my car, I wave her inside. She brushes her hand along my chest, looking at me under her eyelashes, so cute and shy and innocent, I could roar.
This is it. I’m claiming my woman.
But can I do that when she doesn’t even know she’s my woman?
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Fiona
His hand is on the small of my back in the elevator as we ride it up to the presidential hotel suite.
I close my eyes and focus on the feeling of his touch, warm through my dress, reminding myself that not that long ago, texting with this man felt like it could never happen.
I’m the one who hinted I was ready for this. I can’t let nerves rule me now. After the kiss, it all came out in a rush when he pushed away the fear with the lust and the closeness. I felt sparked up, ready to be with him, ready to take on this challenge.
But now, my whole body is alight with all the ways it could go wrong. I feel paralyzed by it.
The elevator door beeps, opening, and my man guides me into the living room. Everything is upscale and beautiful. The living room is classically decorated with ornate furniture.
As Felix closes the curtains, I notice that his hands are still shaking.
“Are you okay?” I murmur.
Maybe he’s nervous about our first time too. But surely not for the same reason.
Heck, the first time.
What am I doing? Can I go through with this?
I remind myself to breathe, take it one step at a time.
“It was those bastards,” he snarls. “The way they thought they could treat you. I hate men like that.”
“It’s why you started your newspaper,” I say, though he already knows. “The story made my crush even deeper if that makes sense. You wanted to catalog the wife beaters in your neighborhood, to shine a light on it.”
“Not just my neighborhood.” His intense blues stare into the distance as though into the past. “By the time I graduated, we had half the city covered. That was a good way to get into the world of media, I think.”